Lungs Filled with Smoke
by Alchemyandpenguinsledding
Summary: A look into the life of Edward Elric, an Ishvalan refugee who offered his service to the state, and the deteriorating mind of his commanding officer. Rated T for mentions of the Ishvalan war of extermination.


When Colonel Mustang looked at the Elric brothers, he saw fire. Powerful flames, that dwarfed the height of mountains, roared in the blood-red color of their irises. It never failed to strike him cold when the sting of smoke filled his lungs and caused his eyes to water, his breath catching in his throat in a harsh cough.

In the years that he had known the Elrics, it had become an unconditioned response to their presence: his cough. Clawing its way up his throat as the smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth as he cleared the burning sensation.

In a rush, he was back in his office. There were no flames, no crumbled buildings, no war-ragged Ishvalan fugitives standing before him- but rather, the Elric brothers. They appeared tired from their recent journey, but otherwise calm and collected in their civilian clothes. Calm, of course, with the exception of the older of the two.

"Why do you do that?" Edward asked suddenly, causing the Colonel to peer over the stack of papers at him. Alphonse, for the most part, seemed unfazed, causing Mustang to suspect it was a question from the both of them, and to wonder what they were referring to.

"You'll have to be more specific, Fullmetal." The Colonel sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, glancing at his subordinate. He stood a few inches shorter than his brother, wearing his favorite red coat. The cool steel of his right arm gleamed from a gap between the coat and his undershirt- a constant reminder of all they had been through.

Roy suddenly felt sick for a moment… must have been something he ate.

The older brother rolled his eyes, balancing on the balls of his feet and shifting his weight back and forth impatiently.

"The cough." He summarized. "You always cough when you see us. Why?" The Colonel blinked, confused.

"Why, Edward, I'm sure I've coughed plenty of times without the requirement of your presence. Coexistence does not necessarily equal codependence."

"Shut up, Bastard." Edward fumed, earning a hushed 'be nice, brother' from Alphonse. He was obviously pressed for patience and this question seemed more and more like it had been on his mind for some time. "Whenever we walk into the same room as you, you always… I dunno… clear your throat or something. It's like a cough.. but not really. It's weird." Colonel Mustang was silent for several long moments, processing the alchemist's words.

"I'm sorry." He responded after awhile, choosing his words carefully. "I hadn't realized I was doing it… and I'm sorry it's to the point where you felt the need to bring it to my attention… I'll try to pay more mind in the future."

"… whatever." Edward relented, seemingly at war with himself over the prospect of pushing the subject matter.

The Colonel knew he should confess. He should tell the Elrics that looking at them only served to remind him of his own crimes… of the sins he would never escape.

He should tell the Elrics that looking at them caused his hands to run slick with the blood that only existed in his past.

He should tell the Elrics that looking at them made his insides twist as the sound of a thousand screams rang through his ears.

He should tell them… but for now, he would keep his secret.

Because when Colonel Mustang looked at the Elric brothers, all he could see was fire.

—

It was becoming more and more difficult to avoid Edward's glare whenever he cleared the burn in his throat. For a time, he tried to suppress the urge to cough whenever he had an advanced knowledge of the brothers' arrival. This, unfortunately, worked only twice before backfiring completely.

He had ended up bent over his desk, coughing hard enough to induce vomiting, while the lieutenant ran to get a glass of water. It had been the first time he had caught the glare thrown at him by the older Elric, and it had been far from the last.

He tried not to let it bother him; he knew that this uncontrollable cough was a manifestation of his guilt… he wasn't an idiot. Which is why it only made total and complete sense that in response to Edward's glare, the burn in his throat got _worse._

Whereas before he could easily pass it off as though he were simply clearing his throat, it now became impossible to disguise it as anything other than what it was: a sickness.

He contemplated seeing a therapist. Hawkeye had actually been the one to suggest it after rousing him from a particularly bad dream one day at his desk. But he knew he was nothing but a coward. A coward who wasn't able to admit his sins aloud. He could never stand to sit in a room while a so-called "professional" micromanaged his brain and made him second guess his every decision. Sure, he had seen a shrink for a bit after the war, but just as it had begun to heal his mind, the alcohol had ripped his sanity from him once more.

That was when Hughes had found him, seeking the forbidden, and had knocked some sense into him. That was when Mustang had come to the realization that so long as Hughes was by his side to set him straight, maybe he would be alright without seeing a professional.

Things got better for awhile… until they got so much worse.

Hughes was gone, and Mustang found that he never remembered having the cough (or never noticed it) while Hughes was still alive. He felt that having his friend at his side quelled the ever-present symptoms of his PTSD to a dull roar in the back of his mind. With Hughes's passing, however, the colonel's demons now threatened to swallow him whole and leave him without a shred of sanity to grasp on to. And, of course, he had to drag the Elrics down with him. It wasn't enough that he was slowly losing his grip on reality, but now he had to give them cause to turn on him and distrust him.

He was losing himself… slowly, slowly…. sinking into despair… finding more and more of himself crumbling and fading like ash into the surrounding air.

He wasn't sure how much more of him there was to hold it together.

Any more than this…

Any more…

And he would _snap._

—

 _Charred beams fell from the ceiling, causing embers to explode from the impact as it hit the floor. A shower of fire rained down on them as they stared each other down, both of them too frightened to make the first move. The boy twitched his arm, and the colonel instinctively raised one gloved hand, poised to snap. Just a slight movement of his fingers, coupled with a little pressure, and it would be over. Just another task to be checked off._

 _His breathing was ragged, the smoke beginning to cloud his lungs and sting his eyes so much that he knew he wouldn't be able to take it much longer. But to take another life… How much longer could he continue taking lives without succumbing to madness. No more… He didn't want to do this.. he couldn't do this… but he had to. He had to, or he would surely meet his end. And he couldn't die._

 _Not here. Not like this._

 _Not while he still had people to protect._

—

The colonel had fallen asleep at his desk. This wasn't anything new, as his team knew he hadn't been sleeping well for the past couple of months- though it seemed to be happening more and more frequently. Usually, the lieutenant would allow him a bit of rest before scolding him awake and insisting he finish his paperwork and go home early if he was tired.

Today, however, was different. Roy had fallen asleep, as usual, and was having a fitful dream, as usual. But this time, the office was deserted. Everyone had gone home to rest after a hard week of tiring work, while the colonel had stayed back to finish signing his final documents before ultimately passing out. His hands were tense on the surface of the desk, balled into fists and trembling. It was a particularly bad dream today, one he had only on occasion, but would leave him shaken for days…

As dead asleep as he was, he didn't even flinch when a knock sounded at the door. Without any more preamble, the door swung open with a faint moan, and Edward glanced inside before frowning, seeing the colonel slumped over his desk.

"You're the one who called me here, in the first place…" Edward grumbled under his breath, as he made his way to the desk at the back of the room. He then grinned wickedly, heedless of any impending danger, and brought the file he was carrying high up over his head. With all his force, he brought it down on the solid oak surface, inches from the sleeping alchemist's face.

 _WHAM!_

The colonel was up on his feet before Edward could register what was happening. Startled, Ed lost his balance and landed flat on his ass with a grunt, the papers in his hands scattering across the room. Confused, he glared up at the older man before feeling his blood turn to ice in his veins.

Mustang's eyes were unfocused and hazy as he stared Edward down. He looked at him as though he were an insect, and it was his job to exterminate him. As he slipped the ignition cloth over his right hand, a torrent of emotions passed over his face. He moved as though he were in a trance, seeing things that weren't really there, and coughed loudly, as though his lungs were filling up with water. Or smoke…

Edward realized then that the colonel wasn't even really awake. He was reacting to an extension of his nightmare… of his personal hell. He wasn't in the office with Edward; he was back on the battlefield… back in Ishval. The situation suddenly became do-or-die as Edward slowly raised himself up on his knees, hands held out in a surrendered fashion.

"C-Colonel?" He gasped, his breath seeming much too loud in the tense silence of the office. The man before him didn't so much as blink as Edward shifted his weight onto his feet, before standing slowly. The coal-black eyes were locked onto his crimson ones, seeking a challenge of some sort. There was hesitation in those eyes, but one wrong move and Edward knew he would become nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor.

"He- Hey… Mustang, cut it out…" He tried again. Should he move back? Or forward? Should he try to alchemize a barrier as quickly as he could? Or was the Colonel's flame alchemy too fast for re-construction to even occur? He reasoned it was most likely the latter. He had experienced Mustang's alchemy on only one occasion, and knew first-hand that he couldn't hope to win at point-blank range.

The Flame Alchemist raised his hand out in front of him, poised to snap. The distance between them decreased by two feet or so and Edward felt the breath leave his lungs. Were those his legs shaking? He couldn't focus on anything but the look in the older man's eyes. It was hatred. It was disgust. It was _fear._

A fear… for what he was about to do.

Colonel Mustang took a heavy step toward his subordinate, and Edward found himself glued in place. _You can't run, idiot. His alchemy will catch you before you even turn around. No sudden movements; don't provoke him. Just think… and_ breathe _, dammit!_

"… Colonel…" He all but whispered, breath coming in short puffs through dry lips. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had been running… _running so long. Just keep running, Al. We have to keep moving._

 _The smell of burning flesh. Explosions echoing through the air, as common as a sparrow's song. Heat. Fire. Screaming._ Mom _-_

Edward shook his head to clear away his own demons. No. There was no time for that. If he succumbed to his memories now, he would definitely die at the hand of a man who didn't even know his own name. He needed to think. Or _act._ He had never been great at thinking things through, and acting now could get him killed.

On the other hand, doing nothing _would_ get him killed.

With a sharp inhale, Edward drew himself up at his full height before shouting at the man across the room:

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Roy! Snap out of it!" Colonel Mustang's hand fell to his side, as his eyes gained clarity and focus.

"E-Ed…ward?" His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, shaking. The weight of what had _almost_ happened hit him like a freight train. He had _almost_ … he _could've_ … just half a second _more_ and-

"Shit…. I really thought you were going to kill me for a minute there!" Edward's voice broke the colonel out of his panic. The boy crouched down and joined the colonel on the floor. The carpet did little to cushion the hard wood beneath it and the desk wasn't very comfortable against his back, but in a show of solidarity, he simply leaned back and stared straight ahead while the man beside him looked to be on the verge of a total breakdown.

Edward wasn't much better off. He knew that all it would have taken was for the Flame Alchemist's fingers to meet and then he would have been dead before he could blink. The knowledge of the immense power the man possessed shook Edward to his core. It was awesome and terrible all at the same time, and to be on the receiving end of such ferocity made his stomach roll and hands sweat.

"Hey… Colonel?" The older man flinched at having been addressed, obviously not wanting to talk about what had just happened… what had _almost_ happened. Edward pressed on, asking Mustang if he was okay. The colonel's hands shook and he rubbed them together before removing the ignition gloves from his hands and setting them beside himself.

"I.. I didn't know it was you.." He supplied quietly, making sure to avoid eye contact. Edward's frown deepened. Having known the Colonel for a few years now, he could easily sense when there was more the man wasn't telling him.

"What do you mean?" Edward ventured, hoping for more elaboration. The man beside him closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as he leaned his head back against the desk. He was silent for a long time… Edward thought perhaps he hadn't heard his question, and began wonder whether Roy had fallen asleep, when the response came.

"Sometimes… when I look at you… I look without really seeing." Edward startled out of his serenity and turned to look at the older alchemist. _Looked without seeing… that sounded like-_

"Sometimes I see your red eyes and, instead of you, I see every person I've killed with eyes like yours." And there it was: the voiced admission of his sins… of the giant, striped, hula-hooping elephant in the room. Neither had talked about their past as long as they had known each other, and now here they were.

"So.." Edward ventured, voice breaking. He cleared his throat awkwardly and then continued, "the… uh. The cough?" The older man huffed slightly, like he had been expecting the question to come up.

"It's a mental thing." He admitted. "When I see something that takes me back to the war, I… get all the sensory input as though I'm actually there." The man frowned deeply, his eyes closing as his memories began to take him back.

"There was… a lot of smoke. From the fires." He confessed, not making eye contact with the Ishvalan beside him, who would have had a very different memory of those mentioned fires.

"Oh." Edward breathed, the air leaving his lungs in a rush.

The silence stretched between them. Neither willing to speak, still mulling over the meaning of what the Colonel had said and the weight of his words settling on the air like live wires. Edward's gaze shifted around the room. He inhaled deeply once, then twice, and then:

"Sometimes, when I look at you, the only thing I really see is your uniform…" The colonel's head whipped up so fast that it caused Edward to flinch. When Roy looked at the younger alchemist- whose head was down, arms crossed over his knees- the boy scowled at him before looking away.

"Don't look so surprised. Just because I joined your military, doesn't mean I'm not messed up from what you did to my country. I've never blamed you for any of it, so don't start the pity train… I know it wasn't your fault, what you did. But my brother and I were raised to fear those blue coats. Not _hate._ Only fear them, watch them, avoid them… and know they could and _would_ hurt us…" He raised his head up, offering a sad smile to his CO. "I also grew up learning to fear alchemy… so you can see how well I listened."

The corner of the colonel's mouth ticked upwards just the slightest bit. What sad soldiers they were, holding all of this pain inside until the day it broke them both down. They could hardly be classified as men. _Well_ … the colonel supposed, _only one of them truly counted as a_ man _._

"I had been meaning to ask about you and Alphonse learning alchemy, but I didn't want to overstep my boundaries." The boy's head whipped around so fast that his braid smacked him in the nose from its momentum. Edward flinched and blew the nuisance out of his face and then stared at the colonel incredulously.

"Hah?" He exclaimed, nose scrunching up the slightest bit in exaggeration. "You're tellin' me you've been worried about _boundaries_? Since when?" Mustang blinked, a bit perplexed, before frowning deeply.

"I always respect your boundaries!" He retorted. Edward barked a laugh, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah, sure you do! If you don't count the day we met or the _years_ after that!" The colonel opened his mouth to reply, but at seeing the younger alchemist's raised brow, he found he had effectively lost the argument. His mouth snapped shut and he mused that he would have to play dirty in order to have any chance at a counter.

"I reflect the actions of my present company, _Fullmetal_. Is it so hard to believe I tend to _stoop_ _to your_ _level_?" Mustang had planned to count the seconds it would take his subordinate to explode, but the reaction was instantaneous.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD FIT INSIDE A POCKET WATCH?!" Edward yelled (directly in his ear, he might add). The boy ground his teeth together as he seethed at his commander, but relaxed suddenly when he heard the older man laugh. It was a small laugh, but a genuine one, and Edward felt the tension leave his shoulders as he settled back against the desk with a soft smile.

"You finally relaxed." He sighed. Mustang turned to look at Ed, all amusement gone from his face. His eyebrows pulled together in a look of confusion.

"Wha-" Edward sat forward quickly, cutting the colonel off.

"Nah, but seriously, though," He began, wrapping his mismatched arms around his knees and flicking his bangs out of his face. "Al and I don't care about all that crap. Well, I don't anyway. I'm atheist, but I have a suspicion that Al's not totally done with religion yet, so you might want to be careful around him." He pursed his lips, looking contemplative for a moment. Then, the sentiment was destroyed by Edward's constant need to be a belligerent asshole about everything.

"Aaaand don't think I won't give you crap about digging around with questions about our personal lives! But, y'know… if you ever want to know something, least you could do is _ask,_ instead of stewing over it like some jackass." Mustang felt his expression fall into mirroring his deep disapproval.

"You _are_ aware that I'm still your superior, correct?" He warned. Edward waved a gloved hand at him, never having been one to pay any mind to the code of conduct.

"Ah, shove it, Mustang. Tell it to someone who cares." He rested his hands on his knees, pushing himself up to stand, as if to leave. _Not yet._ The colonel couldn't help but think. _I'm not ready to be alone again… not yet, please._

Before he could stop himself, Mustang felt his hand raise up in effort to grab the boy's coat, felt his mouth open up to speak.

"Ed-"

"Oh, and by the way," Edward interjected. "I might ask you some questions, too, every now and then. Hope you get that this is equivalent exchange now. Can't have you getting too cocky on your rise to the top of this whole thing." Roy was too stunned to speak for a moment. Edward's little speech had reminded him entirely too much of another man who had been eager to push his buttons.

 _You've got my vote. Make it to the top, Roy._

He smiled softly.

"Right. I'll try not to disappoint." Edward's gaze turned to him then, searching. Looking like he wanted to find the right words to say in that moment, but not quite knowing where they stood. The colonel's heart still froze in a block of ice whenever those red eyes met his, but the smell of smoke was distant now.. and the screams had all-but stopped.

Maybe, this could help. Maybe this could help him find peace… and help Edward, too. Maybe he could get better.

"Don't worry," Edward spoke then, sounding eerily as though he had been listening in on the colonel's private thoughts. "You will." And with that, Edward Elric turned and strode toward the office door without so much as a glance back. And even though he knew they would never speak of this shared moment ever again, Mustang couldn't help but smile.

Because when Colonel Mustang looked at the Elric brothers, all he could see was _fire_.


End file.
